


all these stolen moments are ours to keep

by puddingcatbeans



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friendship/Love, High School, M/M, brotherhood era, fellas is it gay to skip class to flirt with your bff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 10:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21506374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingcatbeans/pseuds/puddingcatbeans
Summary: “If I didn’t know better,” Prompto says when he finds his voice again, “I’d think you were flirting with me.”Noctis glances up at him, and Prompto catches the mischievous glint in his eyes. It makes his heart stutter every time.“What if I am?”A series of times Prompto and Noctis play hooky from school. Instead of getting caught, maybe they catch some feelings.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 37
Kudos: 258





	all these stolen moments are ours to keep

**Author's Note:**

> this is my piece for [insomnia high zine](https://insomniahigh.tumblr.com/)!! working on this project was truly an honour, the mods and team are so wonderful and supportive and the works are absolutely breathtaking. i hope everyone enjoys this piece as much as i had fun writing it. here's to our favourite dumb teenage boys in love~

Prompto’s fingers twitch a little too hard and he watches in dismay as his pen bounces off his chemistry homework and goes flying off the table’s edge and onto the floor. 

“Ha,” Noctis offers from across the table. He doesn’t even look up from his sketchbook. He’s been doodling furiously in it since they first sat down half an hour ago. 

They’re in the library, tucked in the back corner by the windows. Prompto has study hall but Noctis is supposed to be in some advanced history class. Noctis has the highest grade in the subject, though, so Prompto figures it’s fine for him to skip. Besides, what kind of a best friend would he be if he snitched?

Prompto reclaims his pen and reaches across the table to poke at Noctis’ cheek with it. “What are you drawing?”

“You,” Noctis replies, so simply and easily that Prompto is rendered speechless for a moment. His head is still bent, dark bangs obscuring his eyes as his pencil moves across the page like a fish in water.

“If I didn’t know better,” Prompto says when he finds his voice again, “I’d think you were flirting with me.”

Noctis glances up at him, and Prompto catches the mischievous glint in his eyes. It makes his heart stutter every time.

“What if I am?”

“Shut up.” Prompto pretends that it isn’t obvious how hard he’s blushing. Betrayed by his own pale skin. 

Afternoon sunlight casts a halo around Noctis’ head; a crown of no weight, no consequences, just pure radiance. Even with his hair casting shadows across his face, Noctis is glowing. Prompto’s fingers itch for his camera. He knows Noctis’ sketchbook is filled with smudged drawings of his own face—because of proximity, he figures—but his own SD cards are just as filled with his favorite subject: his best friend. 

Turning his eyes away, Prompto carefully rips out a blank page from his notebook. His hands fall into familiar movements, smoothing edges and folding creases. He used to get paper cuts all the time, so much that Noctis noticed and gifted him with a box of chocobo-themed bandaids. Prompto would risk all the paper cuts in the world to see Noctis’ shy smile when Prompto presented him with the paper birds he’d folded out of colored paper.

He finishes his paper drone, curling one end to make it fly further, and throws it in the air. It twists around Noctis’ head, ruffling his hair, before nose diving onto the window sill.

Noctis blinks at him. Prompto grins back. 

“Rude,” says Noctis, but he’s putting down his pencil. Prompto can see a sleepy version of himself half-formed on the page. It’s strange because he could never think of himself as what Noctis captures on paper, not as breathtaking, not as striking, but he recognizes himself just the same. Noctis is just really good at drawing, he supposes. “Attacking a defenseless man.”

Prompto gestures to the blank pages of the sketchbook. “You have plenty of ammo, bro.”

Noctis tilts his head. His gaze flicks up and catches Prompto’s, just like Prompto’s breath suddenly catches. A smile dances along Noctis’ lips as he goes, “Teach me?”

As if Prompto could ever say no.

++

“Dude, when you said, ‘Cut class with me and I’ll treat you to food!’, this was so not what I was thinking.”

“Disappointed?”

Prompto shrugs. The diner is one of the best hangout spots in the neighbourhood because of its location near the arcade, the cheap greasiness of the food, and the good music on repeat. This early in the afternoon, the usual rowdiness of teenagers is missing. The waitresses don’t look too bothered about the two of them, still in their school uniforms, clearly playing hooky in the corner booth.

“Order anything you want,” Noctis says, brandishing the menu. “Today we feast like royalty.”

“Don’t you mean every day you feast like royalty—?”

Noctis pushes his palm against Prompto’s smile. “I’m serious, you loser. My treat.”

“Because you get a thirty percent discount since you work here part time?”

“Prompto. If you keep calling me out like this, I’m going to have you arrested.”

“Oh no, spare me, Your Highness!” Prompto widens his eyes and bats his eyelashes a few times for good measure.

Noctis glares at the menu. “Don’t call me that.”

Prompto studies the pink staining Noctis’ cheeks, the fidgeting of his fingers, the sideways tilt to his mouth. He’s been friends with the guy long enough that he can read the many angles and quirks of Noctis’ lips to tell when he’s really upset versus when he’s just embarrassed. Noctis doesn’t like being reminded of his status, usually—but he’s also never had the chance to be teased about it lightheartedly. Good thing Prompto never really cared for awkward formalities.

“I’m getting the ultra spicy fries,” Prompto decides.

Predictably, Noctis’ mouth pulls down into a frown. Prompto just beams at him. Noctis sighs, resigned. 

He’s on his last fry and Noctis’ milkshake is halfway drained when it starts to rain outside. Prompto peers out the window. It’s kind of pretty, like a painting: the gray mist muting the rest of the world, colorful umbrellas popping up along the sidewalk. His eyes catch on Noctis’ reflection in the window. Noctis has his head turned, too. 

He’s already watching Prompto.

They share a smile through the window. Prompto licks the salt and spices off his fingers, pretends to ignore the way Noctis’ eyes follow the movement. He lifts his chin and they make eye contact again. 

“Wanna,” Noctis starts, and then he clears his throat. “Wanna come over? Specs has a thing at the Citadel until late today, so.”

“Are you trying to invite me over for some Moogleflix and chill, Noct?”

Predictably, his best friend sputters, turning red again. Prompto laughs. He reaches across the table and snags the milkshake, taking a generous sip out of the straw. He licks the whipped cream off his lips and aims a smirk at Noctis.

“Let’s go,” he says, “before someone tattles to your royal babysitter on us.”

Noctis rolls his eyes, but when they leave, he walks close enough to let their fingers brush together.

++

Technically, the rooftop is off-limits to students. But Noctis has a thing for high and hard to reach places, and Prompto has a thing for following his best friend wherever he wants to go. So the rooftop has become  _ their _ place.

They’re sitting with their backs against the chain link fence along the edge of the roof, afternoon sun warm against their skin. A slight breeze tickles their hair. Noctis is tapping away at King’s Knight. Prompto is stealing the vegetables from his lunchbox. 

It’s been a long week. They haven’t had much time to hang out save for spare moments here and there, between classes, a short walk to the bus stop. Noctis is, after all, the heir to the throne—this meant extra lessons, long meetings, piles of readings with teeny tiny fine print. And Prompto is a scholarship student, which meant part-time jobs, study sessions, miscellaneous house chores. Their chat log remains consistently filled with terrible memes and cat stickers but it’s not the same.

Even just sitting here, side by side, soaking in the comfortable quiet is enough. Prompto can feel the stress of the last few days melt away. He hopes that Noctis feels the same. 

Noctis yawns. He sets his phone aside and stretches his arms over his head. His shirt rides up, exposing the jut of his hip bone. Prompto averts his eyes, focusing on carefully chewing a slice of carrot.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Mm.” Noctis squints up at the sky. There are a few clouds in the distance, but the bright blue is almost blinding. The bags under his eyes are prominent.

Prompto reaches out and tugs on his sleeve. “You can nap,” he says, “if you want. I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

Noctis is frowning, but Prompto just pulls harder on his sleeve. Cluing in, Noctis shuffles forwards until his head is in Prompto’s lap, his legs stretched out sideways. His eyes fall closed from the sun’s glare. When Prompto’s hand finds its way into his hair, Noctis lets out a small sigh.

“Comfy?”

“Shush,” Noctis says. He has a hand bunched up at the hem of Prompto’s shirt. There will be wrinkles that Prompto has to iron out later, but he doesn’t really mind at all. 

The end of lunch break comes and goes. Noctis is lightly snoring on Prompto’s thigh. He sneaks a picture of his best friend conked out with his mouth open. Prompto leans back against the fence and tilts his head back. 

He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

++

“Do you see them?”

Prompto peers over the car magazine he’s holding and out the window into the street. The streets are crowded with pedestrians and business suits on their way back from lunch break. He doesn’t spot any Crownsguards, not even the plainclothes ones. Once you start hanging out with the prince on a regular basis, you start to be really good at spotting them. 

“I think we're clear.”

“You sure?” Noctis is hiding behind the aisle of candy. He’s wearing one of Prompto’s hoodies and a worn cap declaring his love for fishing. He looks a bit ridiculous, but he also looks nothing like the dignified prince he’s supposed to be. Which is exactly what they were aiming for.

“Come on, this is our chance.”

“Wait, I wanna buy this.”

Prompto shoves the magazine back onto the rack and wanders over to peer at the chocolate bar Noctis is holding. It’s a popular brand, with marshmallows in the centre. It’s something that's definitely not on the menu at the Citadel nor in the care of Ignis.

“Hold on, get this one, too.” Prompto grabs another candy bar off the shelf. He tugs the chocolate out of Noctis’ hand and goes to pay before his friend can react.

“Dude,” Noctis says, but Prompto waves him off.

“It’s my turn to treat you.”

Noctis makes a face, which would be silly on anyone else but Prompto just finds it endearing. They shuffle out of the convenience store and lose themselves into the midday Middle Insomnia crowd. They take their time, skirting the busy plaza and weaving through the shopping district. Prompto isn’t really one for places like these, but Noctis likes the anonymity. And Prompto likes the gleam of curiosity in Noctis’ eyes, the spark of wonder in Noctis’ smile.

They end up on the quiet road by the river, along Prompto’s jogging route. The sun is against their backs, only a few cyclists and people walking their dogs on the path. They’re walking close enough that their hands bump together every few steps. Neither of them draw away.

“Hey, Prom,” Noctis says.

“Yeah, Noct?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

Noctis shrugs. “For keeping me company. I know I tend to drag you around a lot. You don’t have to, you know.”

Prompto shakes his head. “I know that. But I want to. Who else is going to be your partner-in-crime, right?”

“I don’t deserve you.”

Prompto’s stride falters. Noctis slows, but his face is turned towards the water. His shoulders are a rigid line; he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Hey,” Prompto says softly. “You know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, right? You’re the most important person in my life, not because you’re the prince or whatever, but because you’re my best friend. So don’t say you don’t deserve it. I’m legally obligated to fight you if you do.”

“Is that in the best friend code book?”

“You know it, bro!”

Noctis is smiling at him, a gentle curve of his lips that sends warmth tingling through Prompto’s very veins. He would do anything to keep that smile on Noctis’ face. He would do anything for this boy.

Prompto takes a breath. It’s just the two of them here. He reaches out and nudges Noctis’ fingers. In response, Noctis turns his hand and catches them. The heat from Noctis’ palm tingles up Prompto’s arm until he’s blushing hard. Neither of them say a word. Neither of them needs to.

They spend the rest of the walk in comfortable silence, linked hands swinging gently between them. When Prompto squeezes, Noctis squeezes back.

++

Something is buzzing above Prompto’s head. 

He swats at it, grumbling and refusing to open his eyes. The pillow his face is pressed against against shifts in protest. It’s soft and warm and Prompto suddenly remembers that they never made it to a bed last night.

He blinks his eyes open. Noctis’ oversized sleep shirt greets him. There’s an arm wrapped around his waist, the only thing preventing him from falling off the couch. Their legs are tangled together awkwardly, and Prompto’s pretty sure he’s lost feeling in his right hand where it’s stuck under Noctis’ body.

The buzzing sound comes again. Prompto wiggles enough to stick his hand between the couch cushion to dig out Noctis’ phone. It takes his half-asleep brain a second too long to process the numbers on the screen.

“Shit,” Prompto hisses. He jabs at his best friend’s side. “Noct. Noct! Wake up! We totally missed first period and we’re missing second period  _ right now _ ! Iggy’s going to kill us!”

Noctis grumbles and tries to smush Prompto into the couch.

“Dude!” Prompto butts his head against Noctis’ chin. They both wince at the pain. Noctis pulls back enough to aim a sleepy glare at Prompto.

“What the heck, man.”

In response, Prompto waves the phone screen in front of Noctis’ face. The number of unread text messages from  **_Specs o.o_ ** is enough to jolt Noctis all the way awake. He takes the phone from Prompto as if he’s touching a poisonous spider.

As Noctis attempts to avoid Ignis’ wrath, Prompto sits up. The game controllers are still in a tangled heap. Prompto’s glasses are sitting hazardously close to the edge of the table. His schoolbag is spilled across the floor, and the dirty dishes from last night’s dinner are still in the sink.

Noctis’ messy apartment should not feel so much like home. 

“I told him I’m feeling sick,” Noctis says, “and that you need to stay to take care of me. Cough cough.”

“Iggy bought that?”

“Probably not.” Noctis tosses his phone onto the other sofa and stretches. His hair is a gravity-defying mess, but Prompto’s hair isn’t much better. There’s a bit of dried drool on his chin. He looks stupid. He looks wonderful.

“Are we just staying in today, then?”

Noctis gives him a crooked smile. “What do you say, partner-in-crime? We’ve still got that dungeon boss to defeat.”

Prompto opens his mouth to agree because he’s a sucker for spending time with his best friend and it’s a well-known fact by now that Prompto is absolutely terrible at saying no to Noctis—but what comes out instead is, “I want to kiss you.”

For a moment, they sit there blinking at each other. Their knees are pressed together, shoulders a hand’s width apart. Noctis’ eyes are dark and so very present. Prompto’s heart stumbles and then threatens to leap right out of his chest.

“Okay,” Noctis says eventually. 

“Okay?”

Noctis nods. He turns on the couch so he’s facing Prompto properly. “I want you to kiss me.”

And suddenly, Prompto is terrified. For all their jokes and teasing and bromance, they’ve never crossed this line. They’ve held hands and hugged and cuddled in their sleep, but this is something else. This is something more. This is bridging the gap between blurred boundaries and unnamed feelings.

But he looks at Noctis. He looks at his best friend, the wild bedhead, the familiar steady gaze, the relaxed posture. Noctis has long since broken down his walls for Prompto. Prompto has returned the favor twice over. They’re in this together. It doesn’t matter that they were born under stars meant to orbit different worlds. Prompto would follow Noctis to the ends of Eos if he needed him to. And Noctis would be waiting on the horizon, holding out his hand to ask him what took him so long.

When he finally gathers enough courage to lean in, Noctis meets him halfway. 

It’s sweet, over too soon. Noctis’ eyelashes flutter slightly as Prompto pulls back. The smile blooming on his face matches Prompto's own. 

“Good?” 

Noctis shrugs nonchalantly like he isn’t blushing. “Your morning breath is a bit of a turn off.”

Prompto shoves him off the couch. “Shut up, you jerk. You liked it.”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to do it again so I can make sure.”

(Later, after they’ve both taken their turns in the bathroom and have curled up on the couch again, sharing body heat and exploring each other with careful hands and shy mouths, Prompto will burst into laughter.

“What?” Noctis will demand, eager to continue kissing a path up Prompto’s jaw.

“Imagine Iggy’s face,” Prompto will say, giggling helplessly, “when he finds out we skipped school to makeout in your apartment.”

Noctis will roll his eyes and drag him back in. And Prompto, like always, will go without question.)

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> @puddingcatbeans on tumblr/twitter :D


End file.
